


Rings

by chimericalEscapist (Adasser)



Series: Self-Loathing Chronicles [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adasser/pseuds/chimericalEscapist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eridan offers up one of his rings to Dave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rings

You wake with a bad taste in your mouth; still messy from the previous night, you figure you smell even worse. Eridan’s gone, but that’s normal. He’s still not used to sleeping at night, and you often find him up reading at ridiculous hours.

You push yourself to a sitting position, and something small tumbles from your chest into your lap.

Yawning, you pick it up and turn it over between your fingers. It’s one of Eridan’s rings. Nowadays, he mostly only wears one or two at a time, but you recognise this one as one of his favourites. You get out of bed and end up finding him in the living room.

He smiles at you like silk and you pretend it doesn’t make your stomach churn. His hair is messy and unstyled, and he’s sitting on that damn couch he bought for you in a pair of your pants. You think, not for the first time, that he just might be the death of you.

He sets his book aside and lets you crawl on top of him, lets you slide his glasses off and kiss him. When you pull away, he mutters that you taste like morning, so you do it again just to spite him. He cradles his hands on your hips as you sigh, lets you settle into him until you slide down a little to rest your head on his shoulder.

“You should be in bed,” he says simply, brushing your hair back.

“So should you,” you argue. He gives a shrug that jostles your whole body and you sit back up. “You left somethin’.” You shift to press the ring into his palm, but he doesn’t take it.

He’s got that careful, almost-wounded expression on and you wonder if you should be preparing yourself for a good cry. “Kar told me,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to figure out the words, “That humans giv-ve each other meaningful gifts as a act a courtship.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve progressed past the courtship stage; we’re into straight-up monogamy, settle down and have two-point-five children with a dog.”

The expression starts to descend into actually wounded, to the point that he moves his shoulder as if to angle away from you. You’re going to have to be a sappy fuck to make up for that one. Never mind if you meant it like a good thing. You sigh and give in early.

“We wear rings, though, but it’s not really an ‘act of courtship,’ more like…” Words he’ll understand, you remind yourself; the last time you joked that you were pretty much married, he panicked for fourteen days straight without explanation. You later found out that he thought that meant you had to have a baby. (Human babies are Eridan’s number one fear. You think it’s endearing.) “A show of devotion.”

You’d never seen anyone do a hopeful wilt, but goddamn if Eridan didn’t manage it.

You let him see you slide the ring on. The smile’s worth it.

His enthusiasm when you draw him back to bed is even more worth it.


End file.
